


Office Job

by emo_bitch



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types, Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, M/M, oliver is elio's boss
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:46:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17278208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emo_bitch/pseuds/emo_bitch
Summary: After moving to New York City, Elio finds himself in need of a job. He ends up at Hall Brothers Publishing Co. as an assistant to the Oliver Cohen, an executive at the company.





	1. Chapter 1

When Elio got the call that he’d been hired at a huge New York City publishing firm, he couldn’t have been more ecstatic. Moving to the city from Italy just a few months prior, Elio found himself quickly running out of the money he had saved up. Elio doesn’t necessarily blame the city for being so expensive, but more the fact that he had grown up so spoiled that he didn’t know how to budget. Soon, instead of buying organic, locally grown produce, fresh pasta, and imported wine, Elio was buying packaged ramen and cheap beer. However, he didn’t let this get to him. He just thought he was living the true, all-American New York City experience. The next thing he would have to do is get an office job, and he did just that. Exiting the elevators on to the 34th floor of a massive skyscraper in the middle of Manhattan, Elio was now the assistant to Oliver Cohen, director of non-fiction literature at Hall Brothers Publishing Co. 

The only other time he had set foot in the office was a few weeks ago for an interview. Oddly enough, the man he was supposed to be working for didn’t even attend the interview. Instead, a French-American office manager named Marzia conducted it. When Elio heard her accent and started to speak to her in French, she immediately fell in love and practically handed him the job.  
The lobby of the office is lined with windows overlooking Manhattan and filled with sophisticated dark furniture; it looked somewhat like the Ikea catalogue Elio gets in the mail every month. He was greeted at the front desk by middle-aged woman with fiery red hair and a pantsuit. 

“You must be Elio! I’m Cassandra. So lovely to meet you. Before you get settled into your desk, Marzia, our office manager, will take you on a short tour of the office. After that, you’ll get situated with Dr. Cohen’s schedule and needs. He should be in by 10:30.” Cassandra got up and opened large glass doors that lead into a bustling office. It wasn’t even 9AM, and yet people rush around, holding stacks papers and coffee, typing on computers and chatting about their weekend. Everyone wore business attire, expensive watches and had pristine hair. It was a world Elio had never seen before.

“10:30? Is it like that everyday?” Elio inquired, following Cassandra through a busy hallway. 

“It pays to be the boss, Elio. However, you will still need to be in by 9 everyday. Just because he isn’t here to take the calls, doesn’t mean he won’t receive them.” Elio continued following Cassandra until they reached a door at the end of the hallway that read: Marzia Paré. After Cassandra gave it a few knocks, the door opened and Marzia appeared.

“Elio! Je suis tellement content que tu sois là!” Elio! (I’m so glad you’re here!) Despite only having met him once, Marzia wrapped him up in tight hug. 

Marzia continued to squeeze him, while Elio managed to get out, “Bonjour! Je suis content d'etre ici.” (Hello! I’m happy to be here.) Soon, Marzia let go and sent Cassandra back to her desk, leaving the two of them at the entrance of Marzia’s office. “Okay let me show you around. They get weird around here when I speak French, so we should probably keep it to a minimum.” 

“Alors seulement pour parler des gens derrière leur dos?” (So, only to talk about people behind their backs?) Elio said with a small smirk. 

“Oui, vous avez l'idée.” (Yes, you get the idea.) Marzia gave Elio a smile back, shaking her head. “Let me show you your desk.” 

They exit the hallway to the main common area that is filled with cubicles and people. Lining the walls of this common area are several large offices, all with modern and chic black detailing and white walls. The people sitting at their desks stare at Elio as Marzia leads him to the corner of the common room. Here, a desk sits outside one of the large offices labeled Oliver Cohen. 

“So, this is where you will be.” Marzia says, pointing at the desk. She then motions to the offices along the wall, saying, “Obviously, Dr. Cohen’s office is right here, next to him is Ms. Rodriguez, and at the end is Dr. Walker. On the other side of the room we have Mr. Anderson, Dr. Norwalk and Dr. Santos. Those are all of the partners. Down my hallway you’ll find, well, myself, Ms. Brown and Mr. Matis. We all work in administration and office management, so if you have any troubles on those fronts, feel free to come see any of us.” 

Elio takes a deep breath, trying to contain his nerves. He’s learning so much so fast, and he’s already worried he’ll forget names of important people. “Oh, by the way, always call him Dr. Cohen, never ‘Oliver’ or ‘Mr. Cohen.’ Last time that happened, we lost an intern.” Marzia clasps her hands together and sighs. “Let me show you the break room.” 

They walk around the cubicles to yet another room filled with expensive looking black furniture and white walls. Marzia points out the fridge and gives him a few suggestions for places to grab lunch. Continuing to walk around the office, Elio gets introduced to a few other assistants, workers and interns, none of which he finds remotely interesting; they all dress the same and have absolutely no personality. 

After an hour of going over Dr. Cohen’s contacts, his important clients, his less-important clients, his current schedule, his future schedule, how to answer the phone, how to fix his coffee and a whole other myriad of things, Marzia leaves Elio alone. Elio starts to wonder if he’s not cut out for this job; he has to make this big, rich executive happy all while keeping his own sanity.  
He surveys the desk, taking a look at the phone, the computer, and stapler, and realizes he needed some pictures of his family as soon as possible, otherwise he wasn’t sure if he could survive. He then started to think about what he could do before Dr. Cohen arrived. Should he get him coffee? What if he didn’t want coffee? Was he going to want to speak to Elio? 

And as if on cue, Oliver Cohen comes rushing through the common area and down to his office. “Can you get Norwalk in here? Tell him it’s urgent.” Dr. Cohen starts to hand Elio his coat, but then stops suddenly. “Who are you?” Dr. Cohen says in his booming, low voice. “Elio, sir. Elio Perlman. I’m your new assistant.” Elio extends his arm out for a hand shake, yet Dr. Cohen ignores him, instead asking, “Where’s Miranda?” 

Miranda must have been his last assistant. Elio had no idea what to say, until he heard the clicks of Marzia’s heels come to the rescue. “Dr. Cohen! I see you’ve met Elio.” Marzia takes Oliver’s jacket and hands it to Elio to hang up. “Where’s Miranda?” Dr. Cohen inquired. 

“She moved to Kansas City, remember? Her husband got a job.” Marzia sighed.

“Fuck. I thought that was next month.” Dr. Cohen said, heading into his office. Marzia quickly followed behind him, leaving the door slightly ajar, and just open enough for Elio to hear their conversation. “Elio is wonderful, maybe even better than Miranda. He absolutely killed his interview and everyone who has met him so far loves him. Just give it some time. Can I get you any coffee?” Elio couldn’t help but smile at Marzia’s affirmations, but soon felt worried as he watched Dr. Cohen took a seat at his desk, holding his head in his hands. Had he not introduce himself correctly? What if he didn’t actually live up to this Miranda girl? Why did these boring office people like him?

“No, no coffee. Just tell him to get Norwalk in here.” Dr. Cohen said, averting his gaze to the stacks of paper on his desk. Marzia left the office with a sigh of relief. She makes eye contact with Elio who is already dialing the phone. “I’m on it,” he says. 

The rest of the morning was hectic as Elio got used to the intensity of his new job. Dr. Cohen had people in and out of his office all day and clients calling every hour. By the time his lunch break came, he was exhausted. 

He headed down to the break room to find all the tables to be taken up, so Elio just got his lunch from the fridge and decided to eat at his desk. As he headed out of the breakroom, he heard footsteps coming up behind him. “Elio! Where are you going? Come eat with us!” Marzia had grabbed him by the shoulder and turned him around to face her. She pointed to a small table in the back with three seats, one of which was taken up by another dark-haired 25 year old. “Oh, yeah, sure.” They retreated to the table where Marzia introduced the stranger as Alex, he worked in customer relations and was Marzia’s boyfriend. 

“Alex, this is Dr. Cohen’s new assistant, Elio.” They shook hands and then Elio proceeded to eat the sandwich he packed for lunch, hoping to get through this lunch without having to talk too much; he was tired and ready to go home. “So, Elio, how’s your day going so far? How are you enjoying things?” Alex questioned before taking a bite of his salad. Elio sighed and sat back in his chair. “Honestly? Not great. I accidentally hung up on a client this morning and put too much sugar in his coffee. I don’t think he likes me.” Alex and Marzia chuckle a bit to themselves. “Shut up.” Elio said, laughing with them.  
They moved the rest of the conversation away from work, talking instead about where they grew up and went to school, their majors and how they ended up at Hall Brothers. Lunch, however, was soon over and Elio had to get back to his countless tasks.

Just after 5, Elio started to collect his things, but before heading out for the day, he stopped at Dr. Cohen’s office. He thought it would be a good idea to actually interact with him, rather than just follow his commands. His office door was already open and Elio watched from his desk as Dr. Cohen wrote something out on his computer. 

This was the first time Elio had gotten a good look his boss; he couldn’t help but notice his tall stature, flawless skin and beautifully blonde hair. The sleek suit he wore showed every last muscle and was clearly tailored right to his body. Elio found himself thinking about his beaming eyes and soft lips, but was soon interrupted.

“Can I help you, Perlman?” Dr. Cohen had looked up from his computer. Elio quickly fixed himself, standing up straight and giving him an awkward smile. “Oh, I-I, uh, just wanted to let you know I’m headed out for today. Is that okay?” Elio rubbed the back of his neck with nervousness.

“Can you come in for a second?” Elio was surprised by his request. Was he getting fired already? Elio knew he wasn’t cut out for this job. “Oh, of course, Dr. Cohen.” Before Elio could move, Dr. Cohen said, “Close the door.” Elio took a few steps into Dr. Cohen’s office, shutting the door behind him. By now, he was positive he was getting fired. He had accidentally hung up on one of the clients earlier, and Dr. Cohen seems like the kind of person to fire someone if he doesn’t like the color shirt they’ve worn. Elio took a seat in front of Dr. Cohen’s desk and took a deep breath. He could smell his cologne from his seat; it was cinnamon and cherry. Elio also noticed there was no decorations or pictures on it, he must like to separate his home and work life. Dr. Cohen was so mysterious, and slightly scary. 

“So, who are you?” Oliver leaned back in his seat, making direct eye contact with Elio.

“Elio Perlman, sir. Your new assistant.” Elio quickly looked at the ground. 

“Well, I know that. But who are you? Tell me a little about yourself. I hate to have you ten feet away and know nothing about you.” Oliver cracked a friendly smile at Elio, which took Elio by surprise. Judging by the way their introduction went this morning, and the harshness he’s been giving him all day, Elio never thought Oliver would even remember his last name. 

“Well, I just moved to New York from Italy.”

“Italy? You have no accent!” 

“My dad’s American. I was born here and I’ve spent a few summers in New England.” 

“I see. Dual citizenship?”

“That’s right. I came here hoping to expand my music career.”

“How’d you end up at Hall Brothers then?”

“New York isn’t cheap, nor is the music scene easy.” 

“Fair enough, fair enough.” Dr. Cohen held up his hands in defeat. “Well, I won’t keep you any longer. Have a nice night, Elio. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Elio stood up and extended his hand, saying, “you as well, Dr. Cohen.”

Dr. Cohen reciprocated his handshake and responded, “please, call me Oliver.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Elio arrives early enough to get a cup of coffee and get settled before his work starts piling up. He stops by Marzia’s office to say hello, grabs himself an apple from the break room and then takes a seat at his desk. For the first hour of his day, things went smoothly. All he did was organize some papers and take phone calls; he didn’t have to worry about guests coming in or making him copies for Oliver, he just got to sit and relax. 

That was until around 10:15AM, when he got a call from the office of George Whitman, one of the most valuable and longest running clients Hall Brothers had. Yesterday, as Marzia and Elio were going through Oliver’s contacts, he was the first one she pointed out. She made Elio swear he would treat him and everyone in his office like royalty. So, when Elio saw the call come in, he found himself trembling a bit with nervousness. He had JUST gotten this job, and he couldn’t mess it up already. 

“Oliver Cohen’s office, may I help you?”

“Hello, this is Emily from George Whitman’s office. Mr. Whitman is requesting that Dr. Cohen come into Chicago next week. Can you make arrangements for a 3 day stay?”

“Yes, of course. Do you have exact dates for this visit?”

“I don’t, I was told to have it planned around Dr. Cohen’s schedule.”

“Oh, alright. Is there anything else I can do for you, Emily?”

“That will be all. Give me a call tomorrow when you have the dates and times sorted out. Thank you.” 

Elio set the phone down and held his head in his hands. He had absolutely no clue how to plan a trip for someone else, let alone someone in business. Where would he stay? How much should he spend? What kind of food arrangements should he make? How was he supposed to do this all in one day? 

“Fuck.” Elio had been so caught up in this stress that he hadn’t noticed the 6 and a half foot man standing before him.

“Everything okay?” Oliver said, taking off his coat. Elio quickly stood up and took Oliver’s things. 

“Yes! Everything is fine.” Elio hung up Oliver’s coat and followed him into his office. “Can I get you any coffee, sir?” Oliver took a seat at his large desk and paged through a file that had been left on it. “Yes, please. But watch the sugar this time.” 

Elio scurried out of the room and to the break room, retrieving Oliver’s coffee. He says hello to a couple coworkers in passing, but keeps his focus on getting right back to Oliver for his briefing. As he returns, he finds Oliver typing away on his computer. Elio wondered what he was doing; he was always typing on that computer. 

Elio set down Oliver’s coffee and went to his desk to grab a notebook. “Okay, so, you have lunch today with Dorothy Ross at 12:30, and then a meeting with the partners at 3:45 in the conference room. I have a document for you to sign regarding the Lewis account. Oh, and it’s Liana’s birthday. Would you like me to get anything for her?” Elio hands Oliver the sheet of paper and watches him sign it. His signature is neat and bold, and his black pen looks striking against the white piece of copy paper. 

“How old is Liana turning?” 

“27, sir.” 

“Just have a bouquet of flowers delivered.”

“I’ll get right on that, sir. Also, Mr. Whitman has requested you go to Chicago for a few days next week. Is there any particular hotel you like to stay at?” 

“No, just something with a nice view.” Elio nodded and turned to go back to his desk and get back to work. 

“Elio?” Elio quickly turned around to face Oliver.

“Yes?” Elio swallowed. 

“Please don’t call me ‘sir.’ I told you, my name is Oliver.” 

“Of course.”

Throughout the course of the day, Elio found himself with even more work than the day before. It seemed everyone in the goddamn city wanted to get in touch with Oliver Cohen, and Elio had to talk to each one of them. At lunch they were giving out pastries, but Elio couldn’t join because he was stuck rearranging Oliver’s schedule so he could go out of town next week. By the end of the day, because of all the other tasks he had to get done earlier, Elio still hadn’t finished making Oliver’s arrangements for Chicago. This meant he would have to stay late. 

Before getting into his work for the evening, Elio got himself a cup of coffee from the break room. The coffee was made hours ago and was cold and stale. However, this is all he had, so he would have to make do. 

As he returned to his desk, he saw Marzia sat in his chair. 

“Where were you at lunch today?” Marzia sprang up from the seat. She had her coat and scarf on, ready to head out for the day. Elio wished he could do the same. 

“The Whitmans want Oliver to go to Chicago next week, so I spent hours rearranging his schedule. He’s a busy man, you know that?” Elio took a seat at his desk and turned his small lamp on. It was 5:15PM, and in mid-December that meant the sun went down. 

“What did you just say?” Marzia laughed with disbelief. 

“He’s going to Chicago,” Elio says with a confused expression. 

“No, Elio! You called him-” Marzia looks around and then whispers to Elio, “Oliver. You’re not supposed to call him that! If he hears you, you’ll get fired. Do you understand?”

“Yes! But he told me to call him Oliver.” Elio threw up his hands in protest and Marzia scratched her head in disbelief. 

“Elio, I don’t know what you did, but you’re the only person in this office he allows to call him by his first name.”

Elio didn’t know what he did either. But right now, he didn’t have to think about it. Whitman’s office expected a full itinerary by tomorrow and Elio hadn’t even booked a flight. It wasn’t just a matter of booking a flight and a hotel, rather, it was making sure he used the right company money, got the receipts, filed them correctly, made sure the car service knew what time to get Oliver, etc. It was only Elio’s second day, and he had to figure out how to do all of this by himself.   
By 11:00PM, Elio was nearly finished, and only had some filing to do. He was proud of himself, but also exhausted, so he thought he’d reward himself with a short nap. Oliver’s office had a large couch in it, and obviously Oliver wasn’t there, so Elio thought he could rest his head in there for a few minutes. 

As he approached Oliver’s door, he looked around to make sure he was alone, which was useless because he had been since 6. He opened the door slowly, stepped in and then closed it immediately behind him. Elio surveyed the room and headed to the corner with the couch.   
Elio layed down and made sure to set an alarm for 20 minutes. While the couch wasn’t particularly comfortable, it was better than a desk. With a makeshift pillow made out of his coat and the smell of Oliver’s cologne embedded into the fabric, Elio fell asleep easily.

 

****

 

Elio, however, wasn’t woken up by his alarm. 

“Elio? What the hell are you doing here?” Oliver towered over him, with his arms crossed. At first, Elio had no idea what was going on, but once he gained his bearings, he was mortified. He had fallen asleep in his boss’s office and his boss had found him. It was only his second day. Elio knew for sure he was getting fired. 

Quickly, Elio got up and tried to regain himself. He could only imagine what he looked like right now with his hair disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and eyes barely awake: probably like a fool. “Oliver, I am so sorry. I stayed late and got tired, I promise it will never happen again. If you need to fire me, I underst-”

“Elio! No one is getting fired. Go home, take a shower and get changed. I’ll see you at 12.”

Elio let out a sigh of relief, but knew that this was far from over. Even if he didn’t get fired, Oliver would still never fully trust him, nor would Elio ever come close to getting a raise, promotion, nothing. 

“Okay. Thank you, Oliver.” Elio went out to his desk, collected his things and headed towards the front door. He kept his head down, but he could feel all those staring at him. He even took the stairs down 34 flights so he wouldn’t have any possibility of running into anyone in the elevator. Needless to say, he was exhausted when he got to the subway. 

By the time he got home, Elio was nearly in tears. He couldn’t believe he had fucked up so bad. He couldn’t believe he had embarrassed himself so bad. “FUCK!” Elio punched his couch and yelled a few times to get it out of his system, though it didn’t help much. 

He then took a long, hot shower, got dressed and headed back to work. Elio’s shower took a bit longer than he anticipated, as he had shed some tears while in it, so he took a cab back. 

When he arrived to the office, he found some woman sitting at his desk. She was on the phone and looking through Oliver’s travel file. Had he been replaced already? Elio approached the desk and spoke to the woman.

“Uh, hi. I’m Elio. This is my desk.” Before the woman could respond, Oliver appeared at his office door. 

“Take me to lunch?” Oliver asked, with a smile.

“Oh yeah, sure. Of course.” Oliver grabbed his coat and scarf, and Elio followed behind him. On their way out, he couldn’t help but look back at the woman. Was Oliver not going to address why she was there? 

He then spotted Marzia down the hall talking to someone, and when she finally looked up and made eye contact with Elio, her expression was one of pure confusion. She then mouthed ‘What the fuck?’ at Elio. All he could do was shrug in response. 

As they entered the elevator Oliver inquired, “so, where are we headed?” 

“Oh, uh, do you like Italian?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good. I know just the place.”

As the exit onto the street, Oliver steps out towards the street to hail a cab. But before he could get one, Elio interrupts him. “No, no, no. It’s close. Let’s walk.” 

“Let’s walk.” Oliver nodded in agreement and pulled his coat closer to him. While there is no snow on the ground, the air is still a crisp 30 degrees and the wind made it feel even colder. 

As they walk the first few busy blocks in silence, Oliver takes in the sounds of the city: cars honking, people talking on phones and busses passing, all things he doesn’t usually take the time to appreciate. Elio, on the other hand, was trying to formulate a way to talk about what had happened earlier. He felt that there just wasn’t enough said, and he wanted to make things right. 

“Oliver.” Elio looked up at his boss, whose face was covered in a dark green scarf. 

“Yeah?” Oliver said, continuing to face forward.

“I just wanted to tell you again how sorry I am for today, and I also know that you said I wasn’t fired, but there was that woman at my desk, and well, it will never happen again. I’m also sorry for messing up your coffee and accidentally hanging up your calls, maybe I’m not cut out for this, maybe I should, I don’t know.” Elio spoke in nearly one breath, getting out all that was on his chest. 

“It’s okay, Elio. I don’t mind. In all honesty, I was just worried that you were staying in that late. You need rest, I know this job isn’t easy.” Oliver placed a hand on Elio’s back. “That woman was Kate, she was just sitting in for the morning. She’s an intern.” 

“Oh. That’s good.” Elio softened at his touch. He was surprised to find Oliver to be so understanding. 

“Why did you think I would fire you?” Elio doesn’t respond, but just shrugs his shoulder instead. He found himself doing that a lot. 

Oliver takes his hand off of Elio’s back as they turn into a small alleyway. Walking just a few feet, Elio opens a door that is attached to an aging brick building. Inside is tiny deli that is packed with people smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee; 1940s Italian music plays in the background as Elio speaks to the old Italian men at the counter in their native tongue. The counter is tall and filled with freshly smoked meats, cheeses and olives, and Oliver is in awe. 

Oliver watches as Elio laughs with the men while pointing to the meats in the case and asking questions. Elio hands the men money and a few minutes later, Elio arrives with two sandwiches. 

“How much do I owe you?” Oliver began to take his wallet out.

“Don’t worry about it.” Elio hands him the sandwich, and they take a seat in the corner next to a teenage couple. Oliver immediately unwraps his food, taking a bite.

“This is fucking delicious.” 

“Everything is made here with recipes that are hundreds of years old. It’s easily the most delicious and authentic Italian food in the city.” 

“How did you find this place?” 

“It’s known in the city’s Italian-American community. Though if you want to eat here ever again, make sure you learn some Italian, otherwise they won’t serve you.” 

“Really? Why is that?”

“They just don’t speak English.” 

“Guess I’ll have to bring you along to more lunches.” 

“I wouldn’t mind that.” Elio smiles, and Oliver smiles back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for all the wonderful comments! I'm so glad you like it. 
> 
> As always, enjoy and let me know what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

As the next few days pass, Elio gets into a good routine. Every morning, when Oliver comes in, Elio brings him his coffee and they go over Oliver’s schedule for the day. Elio then does whatever menial tasks Oliver assigns him: taking phone calls, making copies, setting appointments, basically the same things he’s been doing all week. 

Luckily, the more Elio has worked, the easier it’s gotten; he now understands more of the nuances of his job. For example, Elio knows that Ms. Rodriguez is often out 10AM-1PM, so Elio never calls her during that time, and he now knows that they brew another pot of coffee around 1:30PM, so Elio often gets another cup for Oliver around that time. 

As time has passed, Elio also has gotten to know Oliver better. He now knows where he likes to eat lunch, when he doesn’t want to take calls, (2:30-3:45 to be exact), and how he likes his messages to be organized (family first, clients second and all else last). Today, as Elio headed out for the weekend, he was stopped by Oliver.

“Elio! Can I talk to you for a second?” Oliver’s head peaked out of his door frame. 

“Yeah, of course.” Elio made his way to Oliver’s office, staying standing at the doorway.

“So, you speak French, correct?” Oliver leaned up against his desk, arms crossed, facing Elio. 

“That’s right. Why?”

“Well, I have a French potential client I’m meeting with on Monday for dinner, and I was hoping you could come. You wouldn’t have to translate or anything like that, but just be your charming self. I know it’s last minute, but I think it would really help.” Oliver thought he was charming?

“Yeah, that sounds fun. Sure.” Elio nodded.

“Really? Thank you so much. I owe you.” Oliver’s face softened with genuine thankfulness. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just doing my job.” Elio waved goodbye to Oliver and made his way home.

Over the weekend, Elio just stayed in, made himself one of Mafalda’s soup recipes, read and hung out with his cat Sophie. He had gotten Sophie right when he moved to New York from his parents, and she quickly became his best friend. Despite being 2 years old, she was still the size of 6 month old, which meant she often found herself in tight spaces that Elio had to help her out of, but he didn’t mind. She still cuddled with him on cold nights and ran around the apartment with Elio, and he loved it. 

On Sunday he got a call from his mom and dad where he talked about his first week of work and they hold him what was going on in Milan. They stayed on the phone for hours together. 

 

*********  
Monday Evening

 

Elio stands outside of his apartment, waiting for the car to the restaurant to arrive. He watches as light snow starts to fall from the sky, some of the only snow they’ve had this season. Elio always loved snow, it reminded him of being home with family, sitting around a fire and reading. It was a reminder of time passing and people changing, but in a good way; it was his reminder that the universe was doing its job. 

As Elio continued to marvel at the snow, a black SUV pulled up in front of him. A driver then got out and opened the door for Elio who was met by Oliver in the back seat. 

“Bonjour!” Oliver said, scooting over to make room for Elio. 

“I thought I was supposed to play the charismatic French man?” Elio lightly shoved Oliver in his arm. 

“Of course you are. Besides, that’s all the French I know.” 

“I see why you brought me along.” 

For the rest of the ride, Oliver told Elio about the client, what he likes and what he does; Oliver wanted Elio to know as much about him as possible so he could play up certain aspects of the conversation. His name is Dr. Laurent, he writes books about philosophy, lives in Paris, is really pretentious and adores the classics. Elio knew exactly how to handle him.

They soon arrived at an overly fancy restaurant on the upper east side that was filled with white, rich, executives and their partners. It was decorated in red and gold and had a grand piano at the end of the room that was being played by a young woman. Elio immediately felt uncomfortable, as he had never been to such a place before. He could nearly smell the entitlement in the air. 

Oliver quickly noticed Elio’s discomfort and whispered to him, “I know it sucks. He picked it out.” However, Elio had a hard time believing that. As nice as Oliver was, he was also a handsome, single millionaire in New York City: he had to frequent places like this. 

Elio then watched as Oliver waved to a table towards the middle of the room. There sat a man in his late 50s, who he guessed to be Dr. Laurent, and a 20-something year old woman across from him. They were both clad in custom clothing and expensive jewelry, while Elio had on a cheap suit and a Star of David he’s had for over a decade. 

“Hello, Dr. Cohen! How are you?” Dr. Laurent stood up to shake Oliver’s hand, and before Oliver could respond, he said, “Oh! This is my daughter, Estelle.” Estelle stood too and exchanged greeting with Oliver. Both of them spoke with such heavy French accents that even as a French speaker, Elio had a hard time understanding them. 

“This is Elio, my assistant.” Oliver put his hand on Elio’s back making take a step forward.

“Bonjour monsieur, bonjour madame” Elio shook their hands. 

“Un Français? Tonight should be wonderful.” Dr. Laurent said.

“Oui, oui.” Elio laughed, as did Oliver and Estelle. Dr. Laurent gave Oliver a look of approval and they all took seats. Elio sat across from Oliver, in between Estelle and Dr. Laurent. 

The rest of the evening went quite well; Elio told Dr. Laurent about his father’s work in the classics and his time in Italy, and Dr. Laurent reminisced about growing up in Paris and meeting Estelle’s mother. It was apparent Oliver’s idea to bring Elio along was one of his best. They all got along well. Every now and then Elio or Dr. Laurent would even make a joke in French, and though Oliver didn’t know what he was saying, he would still laugh. 

Later into the evening, while Oliver and Dr. Laurent chatted about the logistics of business that Elio didn’t understand, Elio spoke to Estelle in French about her visit to New York.

“How long will you be here?” Elio inquired. 

“Until tomorrow. Though, now I wish I was here longer.” Elio felt Estelles foot touch his leg, which made him a bit uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, this city has a way of doing that. There’s just so much to do.” Elio slowly moved his leg away.

“And so many people to meet.” Elio gave her a polite smile, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t want to make a scene, nor did he want to ruin this opportunity for Oliver. 

“So, what kind of work do you do for Dr. Cohen?” Estelle kept talking because Elio wasn’t.

“Well, I organize his schedule, make copies, set up travel, stuff like that.” 

“Do you work in a big building?”

“Yes.”

“It must have a wonderful view.”

“Oh yeah, it’s great.”

“I’d love to see it some time.” 

“Of course.” Elio said this reluctantly. As they continue to converse, Estelle keeps being extremely flirtatious, moving closer to Elio, resting her hand on his arm and making intense eye contact with him. Though Elio wasn’t interested, he still kept quiet and kept being polite. 

Luckily, dessert soon came and occupied everyone’s attention, though Estelle kept trying to make subtle moves. Over dessert, Dr. Laurent told a story about his first time coming to New York, and while Elio didn’t care, he listened intently and made comments in French, which he could tell Dr. Laurent loved. 

The night soon came to a wrap, and the two of them said their goodbyes to Dr. Laurent and Estelle before catching a cab. 

“So, how do you think it went?” Elio said, as they pulled away from the restaurant.

“Very good. Like, really, really good. Thank you, Elio. I mean it. Dr. Laurent loves you.” Oliver rests his hand on Elio’s thigh similarly to how Estelle had earlier in the evening. Only this time, he didn’t mind it. 

“Yeah, it’s no problem. It was your idea for me to come.” 

“You know, Elio, Dr. Laurent wasn’t the only one who was into you. Did you see the way Estelle was acting? She was all over you. Plus, she’s pretty easy on the eyes.” 

“Yeah. She’s pretty.” Elio hesitated. 

“I could get her number for you, if you’re interested.” Oliver jokingly nudged Elio’s shoulder with his. 

“No, no. That’s okay.” Elio looked at his lap and swallowed.

“Are you sure? If it’s because she’s a potential client’s daughter, well, I don’t think you should worry-”

“I’m gay, Oliver.” Elio cuts Oliver off.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Oliver looks away from Elio and holds his head in his hands. 

“It’s okay.”

“So, you must have been super uncomfortable all night, huh?”

“Extremely.” 

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.” Oliver looked embarrassed to have put Elio through that, and averted his gaze to the window next to him. 

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Seriously, don’t worry about it.” As he said this, Elio set his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. Though now that he was out, he knew what this might look like and quickly took it away.

The rest of the car ride was in silence, where each man reflected on all that happened in the evening. Elio unexpectedly came out to Oliver and got harassed by a French woman, and Oliver is getting closer to closing a multi-million dollar account all while bringing his new assistant to dinners where he’s finds himself extremely uncomfortable. Needless to say, it was an interesting night for all involved.

By the time the taxi reached Elio’s apartment, neither boy had said anything. 

“Don’t forget, you have your flight to Chicago at 12 tomorrow. If you need anything before you leave, you know where to reach me.” Oliver nodded at Elio, and then Elio got out of the car and headed into his building. 

The next day, Elio went in to work, but with Oliver gone, he didn’t have much to do. He took messages, organized some papers, though for most of the day, he just read. 

At lunch, he ate with Marzia and Alex in the break room, where they discussed local news and the prospect of going out tonight.

“We could get dinner at that new hotdog place in Brooklyn and then go to a karaoke bar.” Marzia said excitedly. 

“I don’t know..” Elio was reluctant. 

“Come on, Elio! We’ll get super drunk and eat greasy food, it’ll be great!” This time, Alex chimed in.

“Fine, fine. I’ll go.” Elio surrendered. 

“We’ll come get you around 8:30.”

 

*********

 

That evening, around 6:30, Elio thought it would be a good idea to call Oliver to make sure all had went well today. Elio dialed in Oliver’s cell phone number, which he had gotten when he started his job, but hadn’t used until now. 

“Hello?” Oliver answered.

“Oliver, it’s me Elio.”

“Oh, hi.” Oliver sounded surprised.

“Do you have time to talk?”

“Of course. What can I do for you?” 

“Well, I just wanted to let you know that Dr. Laurent called, though he didn’t leave a message. You also got a message from the LA office about scheduling a conference call with the partners, so I’ll set that up for next week. Oh, and your mother called as well, she asked if you had heard from your sister.” 

“No, I haven’t. Why?”

“Well, she got into that graduate program in London.”

“That’s wonderful! Can you send her flowers and chocolate?”

“Yes I can.” Elio took a breath and continued to say, “How’s Chicago?”

“It’s fine. I’ve been here a few dozen times already, so it’s nothing too special.”

“Are you having a good time so far? How was your flight?” 

“It was fine. But honestly Elio, trips like this, I don’t really know, I just don’t like them.”

“Why’s that?” Elio took a seat next to Sophie, who was asleep on the couch. 

“I get to travel all around the country for this job, yet, it’s just to earn money. I don’t do it to see culture or have fun, just to make sure I get a paycheck. Trips like these just make me lonely.” Elio could hear the sincerity in Olivers voice. 

“They make me lonely too.” Elio admitted, though he had never gone on a business trip before. Maybe he missed the people who do go on them. 

“Well, I’ll let you go. I’m having dinner with Whitman and his wife.” Oliver quickly changed the subject. 

“Right. The car should be at your hotel by 7. Goodbye, Oliver.”

“Bye, Elio. Have a good night.”

Elio then got ready to go out: he put on a loose-fitting floral button down, some jeans and converse, something much different from the business casual he’d just gotten used to wearing. Before he knew it, there was a text from Marzia that she and Alex were at his apartment building. Elio quickly buzzed them up, and attempted to pick up his living room before they got to his floor (which he knew would be a little while, because he lived on the 8th floor with no elevator). 

There was a light knock at the door, and when Elio opened it, there stood Marzia and Alex clad in their winter wear.

“Jesus Christ, dude. Do you do that everyday?” Alex said, out of breath. 

“I sure do! There’s water in the kitchen if you’d like some, I’m just going to grab my coat.” Elio headed down the hallway and to his room, and he soon emerged dressed in a heavy coat, scarf and a hat. When he came back, he found Marzia and Alex fawning over Sophie. 

“What’s their name?” Alex said, while petting Sophie and looking up at Elio.

“Her name is Sophie. She was a gift from my parents when I moved to New York.”

“She’s adorable!” Marzia nearly squealed.

“Yeah, she’s my buddy.” Elio smiled.

“Well, let’s get going.”

They then walked together to the subway, and made their way down to Brooklyn. Marzia, Elio and Alex had organic conversation the whole night, but after their second beers at the hotdog place, the conversation got even better. The meal was filled with stories about work, high school and drunken nights; it was wonderful. 

By the time they headed to the karaoke bar, they were all tipsy and laughing. They sat at a booth, where they ordered shots and watched some college student sing Don’t Stop Believing while his friends cheered him on. When he finished, they had another shot. 

“Elio, go sing something.” Marzia said, pointing to the empty stage.

“Fuck, I don’t know what to sing. I don’t know many English songs.” Normally, this wasn’t something Elio would do, but he was far too drunk to realize he was embarrassing himself. 

“Chanter Zou bisou bisou!” (Sing Zou bisou bisou!) Marzia nearly yelled.

“Ont-ils cette chanson?” (Do they have that song?) Elio asked.

“Oui! Vas y!” (Yes! Now go!) Marzia commanded, then she and Alex followed Elio out of the booth, and watched as he spoke to the woman working at the bar. Before they knew it, Elio was on stage and the music was beginning. 

Elio began singing the French song, drunkenly swaying his hips and often forgetting lyrics, but kept getting praise from Marzia and Alex, who were in front of the stage dancing with each other. Towards the middle of the song, as he began to sweat, Elio unbuttoned his shirt. This received multiple whistles from Marzia and Alex, who by now were dancing offbeat and laughing their asses off. 

When he was finished, he was surprised to not only receive applause from his friends, but a cute guy sitting at the bar. Elio, not thinking twice, walked over to the stranger: he had long hair, a black t-shirt and black jeans on, and Elio was totally into it. 

“How’d I do?” Elio said, biting his lip.

“Oh, absolutely wonderful.” The stranger smiled at Elio, and pointed to the seat next to him. “Let me buy you a drink for such a great performance?”

“I’d like that.” Elio took the seat next to him. “I’m Elio.”

“I’m Clay. Nice to meet you.” Clay put his hand out, and Elio shook it. 

“You as well.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so patient. I started the semester back up in January and my life just got super busy way too fast. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for your support.

That night, Elio ended up going home with Clay. On his way out of the bar, he saw Marzia and Alex make obscene gestures to him that suggested he and Clay were going to have sex that night, and they did. Though Elio didn’t exactly like the sex; it wasn’t that the sex was bad, or that Clay wasn’t super hot, but something just felt like it was missing, like Elio wanted more of a connection. 

Frankly, he just wasn’t into casual sex anymore. In high school, he had hooked up with nearly everyone in his tiny Italian school. When he would go to parties, he would end up making out with some girl at the beginning of the night, and getting his dick sucked by some kid in the year below him by the end. 

Maybe it was his move to America: everything was new, scary and different, and maybe Elio just wasn’t quite ready to put his guard down. Maybe he was growing older and wanted to divert from the paths of his youth and actually be in a serious and stable relationship. 

Either way, after an awkward goodbye and a small hunt around Clay’s apartment for his shoes, Elio was on his way home after his first one night stand in America. On his journey home it was still dark out, as it was only 6 in the morning, but Elio liked it. It gave the city an ambiance that it rarely had: calm, cool and collected. 

Half an hour later, he was home, getting changed and feeding Sophie. He decided it was best if got himself hydrated and ate something, as he definitely felt a bit hungover. He fried an egg, cut up some fresh vegetables and situated himself in front of his TV. While he scrolled aimlessly through channels, he began to reflect on his drunken escapades last night. He could only imagine how stupid he looked singing, and secretly hoped Marzia and Alex didn’t remember much of it. 

He finally situated himself on some local news that was doing a story on the robbery of a convenience store in Brooklyn. Elio mindlessly watched while eating his breakfast. While the woman on the TV talked about this week’s weather, (which was still going to be bitterly cold), the phone rings. It’s Marzia. 

“Hello?” Elio answers. 

“Hey! How are you feeling? How was last night?” Marzia spoke in French. Elio noticed that whenever he spoke to Marzia in French, she always sounded more comfortable; she wasn’t struggling to think of a word or pronounce something correctly, she just sounded more like herself. 

“I’m feeling okay. Last night was okay. How about you? What time did you and Alex get home?” Elio said. 

“Like 1? I think. But tell me more about the guy! What was his name again? Where does he live? How was it? Like, you know, was it big?” Marzia laughed at her own question. 

“His name is Clay, and he lives like a 15 minute walk from the bar. The sex was good enough, and his dick was average, but I didn’t love it all that much.” Elio paused. “I don’t know, maybe I’m not cut out for casual sex anymore.” 

For the rest of the morning, Elio and Marzia stayed on the phone together, where Elio vented to her about this new complex he was having. Elio had never thought of himself as someone who desired to be in a relationship, though right now, he was feeling particularly upset over not being in one. He told Marzia about how much he admired her and Alex, and she reminded him that it isn’t always rainbows and sunshine. 

“Alex and I, as happy as we are now, have not always been this way. We weren’t together for a whole month last year because of some petty misunderstanding. Love just doesn’t let you think straight sometimes.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love.” Elio admitted. He spoke softly, as if he was ashamed.

“You’re young, Elio. You have plenty of time.”

“You’re right.” Elio took a deep breath and sighed. “Marz, thank you so much for talking with me, but I have to get ready to go to work. I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”

“I should probably do that too. See you soon.” 

Elio then headed back into the hectic and bustling New York City morning. As usual, the subway was crowded with people in suits, kids going to school, and early morning tourists. Per usual, Elio just scrolled through social media as he waited to arrive at his stop. 

Once he got to work, he greeted Cassandra and took a seat at his desk. He then saw Marzia walking towards him with two coffees in hand, one of which she handed to Elio. 

“Hey. Thanks again for this morning. I don’t know what’s up with me.” Elio said, taking the coffee from Marzia. 

“Stop saying thank you. I’m just doing what friends do.” Marzia said this sincerely, and Elio was brought back a bit. Marzia was his friend. It felt good to know that.

“You’re the first friend I have in America.” Elio admitted. 

“Really?” Marzia looked surprised. She knew Elio hadn’t been here for too long, but he fit in so well with her and Alex, that she figured he had dozens of friends outside of work. 

“Yeah.” Elio said sheepishly, as if he was embarrassed. Maybe it was the fact that she shared a language with her, but Marzia brought out a genuine Elio. 

“Well, it’s an honor. I’m very proud to have that title.” Marzia shook Elio’s hand and walked back to her office. Elio couldn’t help but smile a bit.

Since moving, he hasn’t been in touch with his own emotions, and finds himself in need of something that will allow him to do that. Even music, his passion and love, hasn’t been as fulfilling to him. A close friend might be good to have.

Elio spent the rest of the morning taking messages, setting up meetings and sending emails; he had gotten pretty good at this part of the job. Although, once Oliver got back tomorrow, he knew it was going to be more hectic. He spent lunch with Marzia and Alex, where they laughed at memories from the night before. Elio realized that for the first time since moving, he felt legitimately comfortable and welcomed. 

After lunch, he continued with his work, but not before he got a call from Oliver. 

“Oliver Cohen’s office, this is Elio.” Elio said jokingly. 

“Hi Elio, it’s Oliver.” 

“May I ask what this call is regarding?” 

“Yes, I’d like to speak to my assistant.”

“May I have your last name?” As Elio kept up with the act, he had a hard time stifling his laugh. 

“Sure. It’s F, U, C, K, Y, O, U. That’s pronounced ‘fuck you’.” Oliver said. 

“Sorry, sorry. What can I do for you, Mr. Fuck You?” 

“Well, first off, it’s DOCTOR Fuck You, and second, I just wanted to make sure everything was going well at the office.” Elio laughed, and then heard Oliver laugh on the other end. 

“Yeah, everything is alright. How was your dinner?” 

“It went. He got way too drunk in the first 20 minutes, didn’t know what the fuck he was saying after a while and we ended up calling it an early night. I didn’t mind though, I haven’t been feeling well since last night.”

“Oh, that sucks. What’s wrong? Do you want to get an earlier flight?”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s nothing. I’ll go to the meeting today then fly home tonight as planned.”

“Alright. Let me know if you need anything. Did the driver come on time today?”

“Yes he did, thank you.”

“No problem. Is there anything else?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Okay, well, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye, Elio.” 

They hung up, and Elio continued through his mundane work day. That evening he stayed in with Sophie and watched some really cheesy American romantic comedy that he had found on Netflix. He loved it. 

************************

It was 8:45AM and Elio stood in the crowded elevator, heading up to the 34th floor. Today Oliver came back from Chicago, meaning that Elio would no longer have extra time during his day to read or talk with Marzia; it meant his work would be hectic once again.

He made his way into the lobby, where he waved to Cassandra and began to walk through the glass doors that lead into the office.

“Elio!” It was Cassandra. He turned around and went up to her desk.

“Yeah?”

“Oliver is sick and isn’t coming in today.” Cassandra said, and Elio sighed.

“Okay, thanks for letting me know.” Now it meant that Elio would have to go through the trouble of cancelling and rescheduling all of the meetings Oliver had today; of which he had a lot since he had been gone and people were trying to get in touch with him. 

Once Elio got to his desk, he immediately called Oliver to see how he was doing.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end was groggy and slow.

“Hi Oliver, how are you feeling?”

“Like shit.” He groans and laughs at the same time.

“Is there anything I can do? Would you like me to bring you anything?”

“No, no. Just do your work. I probably won’t be back until Monday.” 

“Alright. Get well soon, and if you need anything, feel free to call.”

“Thank you.” 

Elio spent the rest of his day calling offices and moving meetings. Luckily, as he became more familiar with clients’ and coworkers’ names and schedules, it became easier to change things around. By afternoon, Elio was nearly done. Now, he was just waiting on a call back from two offices.

With his spare time, he decided to see what Marzia was up to. When he walked up to her office, the door was slightly ajar. Peeking his head in, he saw Marzia typing on her computer. 

“Knock knock.”

“Oh! Hi! Come in.” Marzia jumped a bit in suprisment. 

“Just seeing what you’re up to. Oliver is sick today so I’m running out of things to do.” Elio said, taking a seat at one of the armchairs in front of her desk.

“I still find it so weird that you call him Oliver.” Elio just shrugs.

“I think I’ll have an early lunch. Do you want to go out and grab something with me?” Elio picks up one of the knickknacks Marzia has on her desk and began to examine it.

“I wish I could, but the thing I’m working on is time sensitive.” Marzia gestures to her computer and a few papers on her desk.

“Is Alex around?”

“He’ll be on a conference call all afternoon.” 

“Damn. Well, have fun with your work.” Elio said while he got up and put the toy back on her desk.

“I won’t.” Marzia sighed.

Elio decided to walk to the Italian deli. He took the same route he had taken Oliver on just a few days before, bracing himself against the cold New York wind. When he arrived, he was overwhelmed with the savory smell the small building contained inside. It smelled exactly like Mafalda’s winter soups she would cook for hours, and Elio felt as if he had nearly been transported right back to Crema. 

Elio greeted the man behind the counter in Italian and said, “That smell, it’s just like home.” 

The man smiled and explained they did indeed have a soup special for the day, and Elio got two bowls to go. Originally, he had planned on having the second one for dinner that evening or for lunch the next day, but as he walked back to the office in the bitter cold he remembered how Mafalda would always make soups like these when he was sick. 

He then remembered poor Oliver who was at home feeling, as Oliver put it, like absolute shit. Elio quickly made his way back up to the building, found Oliver’s address, hailed a taxi, and headed to the address on the upper east side. 

The car dropped Elio off in front of a massive row of brownstone townhouses, of which, even with nearly non-existent front yards, were adorned with meticulously placed flowers and greenery: it perfectly shaped the home in such a way that showed immense wealth. 

Elio scoured the few numbers on the buildings to find Oliver’s, and then made his way up the steps. However, he hesitated to knock on the door. What if this was too much? What if Oliver didn’t like people dropping by unannounced? He rang the doorbell anyway, and just hoped all would be well. Soon enough, an exhausted-looking, sweatpants-clad Oliver opened the door.

“What are you doing here?” Oliver said between coughs. 

“I brought you some soup, I thought it may help.” Elio said, showing Oliver the paperbag he was holding. 

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I did. Let me heat it up for you.” Oliver led Elio inside, where he found himself surrounded by immaculate wood detailing from floor to ceiling. At the entrance was a gorgeous and grand set of stairs leading to the second floor, and just past that were walls of books, paintings, and small trinkets he had probably picked up while traveling. 

Elio followed Oliver through the hallway and to the kitchen, which was outfitted with brand new appliances and spotless countertops. Oliver showed him where the bowls were, and Elio grabbed two. He emptied the contents of the plastic containers into each and put them in the overly-fancy microwave Oliver had.

“So, do you think it’s just a cold?” Elio asked.

“I think so…. I hope so. I’m too busy to get sick.” Oliver said, and Elio laughed.

“Are you going to see a doctor?” 

“If I don’t feel better in a few days, then yes. Although, I hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“How’d you get over here?”

“I took a cab.”

“Do you want me to pay you back for it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Just then, the microwave beeped. 

“You should go sit down, I’ll bring the soup to you.” Elio said. 

“Okay, thanks.” Oliver gave Elio a sheepish smile and sat on the couch and pulled a blanket over himself in the living room adjacent to the kitchen. He could hear as Oliver cough heavily from the other room

Soon, Elio came in with soup, and joined Oliver on the couch. 

“I got this from the Italian deli.” Elio handed him the bowl.

Oliver had some of his soup and said, “it’s so goddamn good.” Elio laughed. 

“Do you want to watch something?” Oliver asked. 

“Sure.” 

“Is The Office okay?” Oliver said, turning on the tv (which, like most things in this house, was expensive looking.)

“Hell yeah it is.” 

They ate their soup in silence as the episode played. They laughed together, and Oliver often coughed and blew his nose. They ended up watching a few episodes, and after an hour, Oliver had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Elio quietly got up, put the dishes in the sink and turned off the TV. He then tapped Oliver on the shoulder and said, “Do you want to take a nap?”

“Yeah.” Oliver groaned out, starting to get up. 

“Why don’t you just lay here? I’ll go get you a blanket.” Elio said, resting his hand on Oliver’s shoulder. 

“Okay.” Oliver adjusts himself to get comfortable, closes his eyes and nearly passes out immediately. 

Elio spots a folded up blanket on the armchair opposite of him and drapes it over Oliver’s sleeping body. While he slept, Elio cleaned the dishes and looked through Oliver’s massive collection of books. Many of them were old and beat up, with notes sprawled in the margins: it looked as if Oliver cared for every single book that occupied his home. Oliver read with passion and excitement, and Elio couldn’t be help but be happy when he saw that. 

Elio got caught up in his book collection, and ended up going through dozens of books, some of which he had read and loved, and many of which he had never heard of. Some were even in Latin or Hebrew, though those ones were not marked up like the ones in English, and obviously not read by Oliver. 

Half an hour later, he heard the padding of feet coming through the hallway from the living room. Soon, Oliver appeared rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. 

“You’re still here?” Oliver’s voice was groggy. 

“Yeah, I got distracted by your library.” Elio said shyly. He then got up and began to put the books away, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“You can keep reading, I don’t mind.” Oliver said. Elio continued to put the books away.

“No, no. I have to get back to work anyway, good collection though.”

“Thanks-“ Oliver quickly cut himself off, held a hand over his mouth and ran up the staircase adjacent to them. Elio followed him and heard from behind a closed door as Oliver retched, heaved and got sick. It made Elio think of the late nights in high school where he and his friends got too drunk and inevitably threw up, or as a child when he would get ill and his mother would stay up late with him when he had spouts of nausea. 

When it got quiet, Elio quietly knocked on the door to the bathroom. 

“You can come in, but it isn’t a great sight.” Elio didn’t care what the sight was on the other side, he just wanted to make sure Oliver was okay. When he walked in, he saw Oliver sitting on the ground and leaning over the toilet, his face had lost all of its color.

 

Elio ran back down the stairs and into the kitchen to get Oliver some water. He ruffled through the cabinets until he found a glass and filled it up in the sink. When he got back upstairs, Oliver was still in the same position. 

It was weird to see ones boss in such a state of vulnerability. Oliver is an executive of one the largest publishers in the United States, yet he is laying on his bathroom floor in pain after becoming the victim to the common cold. It reminded Elio that despite the power and wealth he has, he is still very much human.

“Here,” Elio handed Oliver the water, part of which he swished in his mouth and spat in to the toilet, and then drank the rest. Oliver then held his hand up, and Elio took the cue to help him up off the ground. 

“Thank you.” Oliver said, flushing the toilet. 

“Brush your teeth and then we’ll get you into bed. Do have ginger ale?” Elio reminded himself of his own parents when he himself had gotten sick as a child. 

“No, I don’t.” Oliver said slowly while he leaned against the sink in pain.

“That’s okay, I’ll get some in a bit.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” Oliver said, picking up this toothbrush from the cup that sat on his sink. 

“Yeah, but I am.” Elio left the bathroom to let Oliver brush his teeth in peace. While waiting, he peeked into what he assumed was Oliver’s bedroom. It was a enormous room with a king-sized bed, a television, vintage dressers and a couch. The walls were painted a soft gray color, and had nearly as many books as his library downstairs. Besides that, however, were piles of clothes on the floor, the sheets were thrown haphazardly onto the bed and his night stand was riddled with used tissues. Elio couldn’t help but clean it up, he always thought that a clean room helped with a clean mind. He made the bed, and while he was throwing away the tissues, Oliver came into the room. 

“Are you cleaning? You know I’m not paying you for that.” Despite the fact that Oliver looked disheveled and clearly ill, he could still crack a joke. 

“Lay down.” Oliver listened, climbing into bed and turning on the TV in his room. He resumed with watching The Office. Before he left, Elio washed his hands and brought Oliver some more water and cold medicine, which Elio had found after scouring his bathroom. 

“There's a store 2 blocks west of here. My keys are near the door, take them with you so I don’t have to get up to let you in later.” Oliver said, before swallowing the pill Elio just handed to him. 

“Cool. I’ll be back soon.” Elio said, heading out of Oliver’s bedroom.

“Elio.” He turned around quickly. 

“Yes?”

“Thank you. I mean it. I can’t remember the last time someone took care of me like this.” 

“Of course.”


End file.
